So say any number of Christian philosophers and authors. The interesting thing is that this could be said of any point in time starting with the very first Christian church.

Part of our, uh, shall I say, “charm” as Christians has been our fixation on what will be rather than what is now. That has nothing to do with our hope, and everything to do with our desire to know what is going to happen in our earthly future. This fixation plays out again in our generation with everything from fiction works to Jerusalem-based doom-sayers. Chicken little is alive and well and writing books. Perhaps the biggest, most notable contributor to our end-days craze of late is the Christian world’s equivalent to tarot cards, the “Left Behind” series.

In my former career in radio, I was fortunate to rub shoulders with most of the artists who inhabited the burgeoning country music scene of the 90s. Some were friendly and common as a dollar bill. Others were stand-offish and uptight. A couple were dumb as a bag of hammers. There were those who lived in a bottle, and others who’d been on Willie’s bus, so to speak. There were many who’d fit in just fine at any of our family events; these were the ones who disdained adulation and preferred slap-on-the-back friendliness. Then there was that annoying little nasal toned twerp (who has since won at least one entertainer of the year award) who would only give you the time of day if you were an attractive female.

For those of you who are already immersed into church ministry of some sort, you’ve no doubt noticed that there are a mind boggling number of evangelism programs out there. Books, seminars, flip charts, tracts… my eyes glaze over just trying to take it all in. It seems right to me that we don’t need another program. We need something that those in the world of diet crazes have started to figure out.

The new mantra among diet gurus is that we don’t need a new diet plan, we need a new life plan. Addressing the harmful and destructive things we do to our own bodies via food intake must be addressed at the lifestyle level. And that makes sense to me.

OK, so I am not wont to making consumer recommendations. That being said, I have a consumer recommendation I want to make.

Frozen pizza is one of those weird food areas where you realize the topping are going to, generally, be of low quality, freshness isn’t even an option, and the ending quality is something ranging between aerosol cheese spray and Spam. But then we don’t eat frozen pizza for the pizza of it. It’s more or less a convenience item that fills the gaps between real pizzas. That being said, Barbara and I have occasionally happened upon a frozen pizza that’s a tab bit better than the norm.

Living in the arctic circle surrounding Chicago, one would wonder why we’d even bother to buy freezer fried pizza. After all, with the abundance of some of the best pizza places in the world here, you’d think nothing that ever crossed the gate of the freezer door would cross the gape of our lips. But that is a philosophical question I’ll leave for the mystics and theologians to sort out. All I know is, occasionally we heat up one of those stiff discs.

God bless our kids. They’ll say absolutely anything. They have no brakes. A though hits their brain, and within 2 seconds, it’s sliding off their tongue. And some kids aren’t’ even THAT restrained.

I love Ethan. He’s my associate pastor’s son. When I first came to GFM 5 years ago, Ethan didn’t really talk. The autistic five-year-old spoke gibberish that his older brother referred to as “Chinese”. Every night before going to bed, Ethan’s brother would pray,

“Hi, I’m Stewart, I’m an Ivy League Scholar and a Nobel prize winner, but I’m not smarter than a fifth grader.”

“Hi, I’m Brenda, I discovered the cure to cancer, but I’m not smarter than a fifth grader.”

“Hi, I’m the apostle Paul, I survived shipwreck, near-death beatings, I out witted politicians and explained the real meaning of mysterious philosophies, I once killed Christians but then met Christ and changed, but I’m not smarter than a fifth grader.”

It’s one of our favorite programs these days. Barbara and I howl and laugh and yell at the TV and adore the kids and muse about the questions on “Are You Smarter Than A Fifth Grader?” We both agree that…

He was a big lunk of a dude that I hired early in my days as a radio station programmer. Though he could have a fiery temper, he was usually just a gentle giant. A country boy through and through, he didn’t pass through life, he bulldozed through it.

I’m not sure how the moniker “Moose” became attached to him. It seems to me that I recall mentioning in jest (what other way could you mention such a thing to a guy who could pound you into the ground like a tent spike?) that he reminded me of Moose from the Archie comics. One thing lead to another, and for years after we all lovingly refered to him by the elkian emblem.